MEMORIAL FOR A FATHER

written by

Drausin Wulsin

posted on

July 25, 2015

MEMORIAL FOR A FATHER

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In tribute to my father, who passed away a year ago, I spent several days this week transforming this pile of rocks into a memorial for him. The memorial sits on a high point of the farm and looks ten miles down the valley toward Fort Hill, where ancient Native Americans once worshiped on the top of a dramatic bluff.

These red sand stones came from beneath an old scale-house on the farm, which we excavated this winter, when renovating living quarters for the Prendergasts. Many of the stones are notched by hammer and chisel to receive cross beams. It is challenge enough to notch logs of wood, but doing so in stone requires tremendous dedication. How those immense rocks were handled in the old days, without hydraulic lifts and loaders, is hard to fathom. Because of the natural proliferation of them in our hillsides, the land-owning entity of our farm is called Red Stone Farm.

This memorial is arranged in a semi-circle with an entrance at mid-point, inviting entry to a safe enclosure, which beholds a powerful spiritual monument in the distance. The stone sculpture has not reached full expression yet, as it is calling for more mass, which it will receive. So this is phase 1 of developing a tribute of rock and air for my father.

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We recently enjoyed the above lollipop chops for Susan's birthday. As you can see, they were beautifully marbled,. They were the best lamb chops we have sampled in five years. In addition, we savored basil-pesto pasta, sliced fresh peaches and blueberries on greens with vinagrette, and grilled eggplant. The meal was sublime, created by the birthday celebrant herself, as usual. This rack of lamb (or lollipop chops) is becoming a feature for us - it is so good and so easy.

We have depleted current supply of short-rib burgers, unfortunately, and won't be resupplied until the third week of August. Short-rib roasts have typically been a hard sell, but turning them into burger was an insightful idea of Susan's, which has reversed the demand for that cut of meat. The burgers are so full of flavor, they are addictive. Thank you for responding enthusiastically to this new product and for bearing with us as we work through the challenges of supply and demand.

We will not be grilling Moroccan sliders this weekend, as my good wife has forsaken me for the beach. But dear-friend Emma will be helping in her stead.

With gratitude for rocks and air that perpetuate memories.

More from the blog

Sacred Place

It is a privilege to know a sacred place, as I feel I do. In some ways, it seems sacred places are supposed to be scarce and remote, like Stonehenge, Chartres Cathedral, the Taj Mahal, or abandoned Pueblo dwellings. Large landscapes, like the desert, ocean, or mountain ranges feel imbued with the divine. Alaska, the Amazon, and the Serengeti invite a sense of awe. One travels to such places, in pilgrimage. And sometimes such places reorganize the pilgrim's sense of order, inviting disorder or change, that can be both painful and uplifting.

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